Sir Eustace Grey (George Crabbe Poems)
Scene: --A MADHOUSE.Persons: --VISITOR, PHYSICIAN, AND PATIENT."Veris miscens falsa." SENECA. ------------------- ...
Scene: --A MADHOUSE.Persons: --VISITOR, PHYSICIAN, AND PATIENT."Veris miscens falsa." SENECA. ------------------- ...
These are monarchs none respect,Heroes, yet an humbled crew,Nobles, whom the crowd correct,Wealthy men, whom duns pursue;Beauties shrinking from the ...
At the coming up of Phoebus the all-luminous charioteer,Double-visaged stand the mountains in imperial multitudes,And with shadows dappled men sing ...
When the Stabber's speech had ended,And his presents all were gathered,And his pipe the chiefs had all smoked,Four young chiefs ...
Now Sym was a Glug; and 'tis mentioned soThat the tale reads perfectly plain as we go. In his veins ...
AS early o'er the dewy lawn I took my pensive way;The brilliants of the opening morn Adorn'd each ...
Wish ye, sons of Alma Mater, Long lost laurels to replace? Listen to a stout old Pater, Once ...
THO ' around on creation I gaze, And am struck with its wonderful plan;Yet regret must be mingled with ...
Lovers whose lifted hands are candles in winter,Whose gentle ways like streams in the easy summer,Lying togetherFor secret setting of ...
Thou too art dead, ———! very kindHast thou been to me in my childish days,Thou best good creature. I have ...
HOW bless'd those olive plants that growBeneath the altar's sacred shade,Where streams of fresh instruction flow,And Comfort's humble board is ...
The little French doll was a dear little dollTricked out in the sweetest of dresses;Her eyes were of hueA most ...
SCARCE the sad tomb on one loved child had closed,Nor had the parents' bosoms ceas'd to bleed;A soften'd calmness had ...
IN CHLORINHorace: Book III, Ode 15."_Uxor pauperis Ibyci_--"Your conduct, naughty Chloris, isNot just exactly Horace's Ideal of a lady At ...
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from ...
The little French doll was a dear little doll Tricked out in the sweetest of dresses; Her eyes were of ...
YOUNG Peggy blooms our boniest lass, Her blush is like the morning, The rosy dawn, the springing grass, With early ...
Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. ...
"Let's make him a sailor," said Father, "And he will adventure the sea." "A soldier," said Mother, "is rather What ...
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, ...
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